


familia

by gryffindormischief



Series: Harry Potter AUs! [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Meet the Family, Meeting the Parents, jily lives!, just no one is dead, still magic, survival AU, yaaaay denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindormischief/pseuds/gryffindormischief
Summary: Harry's bringing Ginny to meet his parents, what's the worst that could happen?





	familia

**Author's Note:**

> My 100th fic! I thought this was an appropriate one because Hinny AND Jily! WOOO. Hope you enjoy :)

They’re tucked in a booth at Fortescue’s, a long since finished pair of sundaes in front of them and Harry’s got his head dropped against the slightly sticky tabletop, groaning. “Do we _have_ to go?”

Ginny gives her spoon one last lick and swipes Harry’s abandoned cherry before he stops sulking and remembers. Swallowing the almost sickly sweet cherry, Ginny sticks the stem into her mouth and begins attempting a knot, but still manages to mumble out, “Aren’t I supposed to be the nervous one?”

“They’re my parents, I have much more detailed and highly-likely embarrassing scenarios already sketched out in my head, you’re just working with societal expectations,” Harry grumbles as he sits back and frowns at his bowl, now sans cherry. Ginny forces innocence into her expression but renders the effort moot by triumphantly pulling the now knotted cherry stem from her mouth.

Harry chokes, complaints forgotten, “Did you tie that with – you tied it – with your – ”

Grinning, she pats his wild hair, “With my tongue dear,” she winks, placing the stem in Harry’s dish and picking up the trail of their conversation, “It’s not like I’ve never met your parents.”

Mention of his parents draws Harry from his increasingly vivid daydream about Ginny’s unexpectedly dexterous appendage and his face falls into a frown. “So you should know how they are – you’ve never met them as my _girlfriend_ before.”

“You’re just jealous because your dad likes me better.”

Harry nudges her foot underneath the table, “ _Chasers_.”

“We are a cut above – jealousy comes with the territory I suppose,” Ginny waxes, drama dripping from her tone.

Reaching across the table, Harry links his pinky around Ginny’s and tugs it. “Remind me who’s team captain?”

“Just because you got there first,” Ginny sighs, waving him away flippantly.

“Youngest player in a century?” Harry continues with a smirk, “Ring any bells?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and sniffs, “Don’t be haughty. It’s unbecoming.”

He swipes his finger through some melted ice cream and dabs it on her nose before licking the remainder off his hand. “I have it on good authority you find me _very_ becoming.”

After letting out a loud ‘ _ha!_ ’ Ginny dips her napkin in her half full glass of water and cleans the sticky chocolate from her nose. “Lets go. I don’t want to sick up all over myself before we go to your parents’.”

With loads more ribbing and a few stolen moments in a corridor near Fortescue’s loos, Harry and Ginny check each other for rumpled clothes and undone buttons before disappearing with into the small fireplace in a plume of green flames, one after another.

He hadn’t been thinking clearly when they left Diagon – Ginny really _can_ do some wonderful things with her tongue – so Ginny’d managed to get to the little cottage in Godric’s Hollow before Harry. And by the time he’s stepped from the fireplace, Ginny’s already halfway out of the den.

Desperate, he grasps her shirtsleeve and tugs her toward his chest with an ‘oof.’

“Harry, dear, I’m not ravishing you with your parents waiting in the next room,” Ginny says with a grin, needlessly straightening Harry’s collar and then letting her fingers wander into his hair, scratching lightly.

With a deep, steadying breath, Harry grasps her wrists and mostly stills her hands, “See this is why – you can’t talk about _ravishing me_ in front of my parents, Gin.”

“They were kids once too, Harry, besides, you’ve got siblings,” Ginny trails off, wriggling her eyes meaningfully and Harry moans.

“I firmly believe we all arrived here care of stork, thank you very much,” Harry says, with a short nod.

“Maybe I should date someone less in denial about biology,” Ginny muses, linking her arm through Harry’s and tugging him down the hall toward the kitchen.

Pausing, Harry leans against a stretch of wall miraculously bare of family photos and pulls Ginny to his chest, nose brushing hers as he murmurs, “As far as they’re concerned, the most naughty thing we do together is play Scrabble.”

“Is that the one with the mice?”

Harry blinks, slow and judging, “Yes, and Mouse Trap is the one with the letter tiles, Miss Muggle Stud- ”

He’s cut off by a near shout from the kitchen, “Oh James!” followed by shuffling sounds and labored breathing echoing off the tile.

Face coloring, Harry turns to Ginny in a panic, only to find her blushing _and_ holding back laughter. “This isn’t funny Gin. My parents are – ”

Again, Mrs. Potter’s voice sounds from the next room, more of a moan this time, with indistinct sounds of shuffling furniture, “Would you just – _there_.”

Harry drops his head to Ginny’s shoulder while she shakes with silent giggles. “Don’t worry Harry, it’s probably just the _stork_.”

Just as Harry’s about to usher Ginny _back_ to the floo and try to forget – _everything_ – Sirius throws the front door open, grocery bags in hand, “I come bearing various materials that will slick you right – oh Harry and Ginny are here!”

There’s more shuffling and then Harry drags Ginny up the stairs to his bedroom as he hollers, “We’ll be upstairs when you’re ready to explain yourselves like adults.”

Which does happen, about a quarter of an hour later, once James has changed into a fresh, lard-free shirt and Sirius has returned most of the butter he bought because, “James’ head’s not _that_ big, Sirius.”

They end up gathering back in the den and once the harrowing tale is finished, Ginny’s in full on hysterics while Harry stares gob smacked. “So what you’re saying is – my father and godfather are currently engaged in a ‘dare’ war – ”

Sirius holds up a finger, “I’d call it a skirmish,” he looks to James, who nods, “We haven’t had a full on war since ’83.”

Lily rolls her eyes and nudges the plate of her peace offering shortbread cookies toward Harry, “Dares were supposed to be off limits for today, love.”

While Harry sighs and bites into a biscuit mulishly, Sirius lounges back in his chair, one leg kicked up over the arm as he fiddles with his wand. “We both know for a truce to be official, it must be in writing and signed by a notary.”

James kicks Sirius childishly but turns his attention to Harry, looking genuinely sorry, “You know how your old man gets. So does Ginny,” and then he sends her a playful wink and adds a nip of firewhisky to everyone’s tea.

Just as he’s settling back against the sofa, Ginny furrows her brow and frowns, “I’m still not clear just _how_ you got stuck in the doggie door as a stag.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “ _I’m_ still not clear on why we even _have_ a doggie door.”

“ _And_ there goes your Christmas gift, mate,” Sirius cuts in, tossing his half-eaten cookie at Harry, leaving crumbs across the carpet and earning twin emerald glares from mother and son alike.

Ginny takes it in stride, leaning forward to grab another biscuit before throwing her arm around Harry’s shoulder gallantly. “So, want to hear about how I saved the Gryffindor Quidditch season while _someone_ was in detention?”


End file.
